


Ten Hours

by CherriesAndRaindrops



Category: Something Rotten! - Kirkpatrick/Kirkpatrick/O'Farrell
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied drinking, Will needs a hug and a month of sleep, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:24:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherriesAndRaindrops/pseuds/CherriesAndRaindrops
Summary: In which Will has an awful case of writer’s block.





	Ten Hours

**Author's Note:**

> TW for referenced drinking.

Seven hours.  
Seven. Goddamn. Hours.

William leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, a bit of beer from his glass slipping to the floor. It had been two hours since he had his last food break, and he was feeling a bit tipsy...  
No, he had to finish the second act of his future smash hit before he even closed his eyes.

So he resumed his work, scribbling words down as if his life depended on it. It had been two years since his last hit, and everyone was dying for more. Sonnets just weren’t cutting it this time. Sure, people liked them (...right?), but there was only so much you could put in fourteen lines.

Every time he went out to greet his fans, they always asked the same questions: “What are you working on?”, “When’s your next play?”, “You gotta come out with something!”  
That last one felt like a punch to the gut.

Look, the point is he’s tired, alright? He needed to keep his reputation as the greatest writer in England, but he didn’t know how to continue from where he left off, and his fans weren’t helping.  
Does anyone even care anymore?  
—  
10 hours.  
10 long, torturous, tiring, depressing, goddamn hours, and William finally completed the second act.  
Let’s-  
Wait a minute, it’s... it’s...  
“IT’S SEVEN SENTENCES!”  
It wasn’t after he finished screamed in frustration that he processed when he’s just done.  
Paper was scattered around him like confetti.  
“Dammit...”  
Will stared at the mess with a sunken look in his eyes. It was seven sentences, but now he’d have to start all over.  
Why did it matter? No one cared anymore.  
So what did he do?  
He sat down, covered his face with his hands, and bursted into tears.  
It truly is hard to be the bard.


End file.
